Succumb
by KalenCaelli
Summary: It's been three years since Isabela left Kirkwall. Now, as the two lovers are reunited, Hawke is forced to decide whether or not she can let the past go. And Isabela is forced to decide whether or not she can surrender her heart to another.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Succumb, Part 1

**Author:** KalenCaelli

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimers:** I do not own Dragon Age, Dragon Age 2, or Isabela. But let's be honest. No one owns Isabela, not even Bioware. This contains scenes, however tasteful, of not-too-graphic love between two consenting adult women. If that gets you all heated up, I suggest you look elsewhere. Or take a cold shower.

At any rate, thanks to all who liked my first Hawke/Isabella story. I am still debating whether or not to incorporate these into a larger storyline. I do so love the pairing and I have all sorts of wonderful ideas floating around in my head.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Varric."<p>

Her back was towards the door when it opened. One would think, of course, that after years of traipsing around Kirkwall, she would know better. There was no shortage of people who wanted her dead; in fact, her enemies were even more numerous now than when she'd spent a year as Athenril's enforcer.

Rising to the position of Champion had its challenges. But she'd had little choice, really. Meredith had been chomping at the bit to take over as Viscount. If Tieran Hawke hadn't stepped up and actively opposed her reign, they'd all be answering to the Templars. And frankly, the Knight-Commander was more than a little power-hungry, which was enough to make Tieran skittish about letting her lead this city.

Of course, there were nobles who wanted her to take over the role as Viscount simply for beating the Arishok. So far, she'd been able to neatly sidestep all of their attempts. But they were growing more insistent, and it was getting harder and harder to say no to her supporters.

Never mind she'd nearly died a hundred times in that battle, outmatched against a more skilled opponent. Tieran still couldn't believe she had actually won.

Champion of Kirkwall. Hero of the common people. The only problem was she hadn't done any of it for Kirkwall.

She'd done it for _her_.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

"_She comes with us." The Arishok's arms folded across his massive chest._

_The color drained out of Isabela's face. "But I returned it ... I ... no ..." The pirate took a step back, though the press of Aveline's hand across her shoulder blade quickly halted any thought of fleeing._

_"No way. I get first dibs on kicking her ass." Aveline's eyes were hard. Isabela looked at Hawke, her mahogany gaze filled with more than a bit of fear. _

_Tieran looked away. She was angry – no, furious was a much better word – at the pirate. She had lied. For three years she'd been strung along, duped into believing this relic was nothing more than a random artifact she'd lost when her ship wrecked. Not once had Isabela mentioned she'd stolen that relic from the Arishok himself. What did she think the Qunari would say? Had she really expected to get away with it?_

_Had she expected Tieran to take the fall?_

_All the secrets. All the lies. Had any of it ever been real? Tieran raised her eyes, meeting Isabela's own. The familiar gaze was pleading, begging with her to refuse the Arishok's terms. _

_If I do this, Isabela will die. There is no way the Arishok will allow her to live for this insult. And if he does, she will surely spend her remaining days as a slave. That would be a fate worse than death._

"_Hawke, you can't let your feelings get in the way of doing the right thing." Aveline's words from earlier echoed in her mind._

_But what if all those feelings were based on a lie?_

_"If you don't do this..." Fenris' muttered softly, his voice not traveling beyond Hawke's ears. "He will order his Beresaad to attack." The elf's voice was grim. "Everyone here will die."_

_Hawke's eyes closed. Could they honestly expect her to choose? Sacrifice her lover – the woman she had grown to love – or the city?_

_When she opened her eyes, Carver stared back at her, his gaze dull and lifeless. Isabela is bracing herself for the betrayal. She believes I am going to give the Arishok his demands._

_I would have stood by you, no matter what. Hadn't those been her exact words to Isabela after she'd awoken from the Fade? _

_Were those words a lie?_

_"No." Tieran's eyes never wavered from the pirate's features, her eyes wide in disbelief. Fenris' head dropped, shaking slightly._

_"You are hardly in a position to stop me." The Arishok's voice shook with barely contained anger._

_"I claim my right to execute my own justice." Hawke squared her shoulders, facing the Qunari leader. "The Qun allows for that." She was suddenly very grateful for all those late night talks with Fenris. Though the elf had not spent long in Seheron, his insight had been invaluable in learning the appropriate responses from the Qunari._

_The Arishok 's face registered dismay, and then suspicion. "__Basalit-an, __you would fight me for this woman? She is Basra Vashedan – without honor."_

_"Hawke, you can't..."_

_"Yes." Spoken a little too quickly, before she could lose her nerve. Aveline's mouth clamped shut mid-protest, her hold on the pirate releasing._

_"Hawke, I..." Isabela's mouth clamped shut at the dangerous expression in her lover's eyes._

_"Fenris," Some wounds were too fresh. "Take Isabela. Do not allow her to escape."_

_The pirate's features tightened in pain. Fenris nodded, his tattoos flowing a faint blue as his hands closed around the pirate's bicep. He would keep her there, and if Tieran died…_

_Well, at least she wouldn't have to watch Kirkwall go up in flames._

_Aveline stepped in, her lips pursed tightly together. "Hawke, are you sure you know what you're doing? She betrayed all of us. Are you willing to die for her? For this?"_

_Tieran pulled out her daggers, her heart racing as she caught sight of the Arishok's sword – a massive bladed monstrosity that would likely cleave her in two._

_"I know." Pain filled eyes met softer ones, as she traced a finger along the sharpened end of her dagger, drawing blood. "But I can't let them take her. I just... can't."_

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Hawke's fingers drummed on the scarred wood of her desk. That had been the hardest fight of her life. From the moment she'd first intercepted that bone-crushing jolt of the Arishok's greatsword, she knew she was in trouble.

But this was not the time to reflect on the past. The last thing she wanted to do was remember _her._

"What is it, Varric?"

The dwarf threw his hands up, regarding his friend with an expression of mock insult. "Is that any way to greet your incredibly handsome best friend?"

"I didn't realize Tiny had followed you in," Tieran deadpanned, suppressing the urge to smile as the Mabari's tail began to wag furiously.

"Ouch, Hawke, you wound me." Varric grabbed his chest, his lower lip jutting out in an expression of mock injury.

She couldn't help but smile. "Wouldn't be the first time." Tieran crossed her hands over her chest. "What brings you to Hightown?"

"Oh, a little bit of business here, a few bribes there..." Varric shrugged. "The usual." He lifted his chin, rubbing the days-old stubble. "Say, whaddya say we go get a drink at the Hanged Man? I'll buy."

Tieran's hackles rose. Varric never picked up the tab. She had known him for nearly seven years, and in that whole time he'd never once offered to pay for one her drinks.

"What's going on?" Her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. _If he tries to get me to invest in one more business venture…_

"What, can't a dwarf buy a friend a drink?" At Hawke's steely stare, he sighed. "Look, Isabela's back."

Tieran's quill snapped in half. Her head began to pound as the blood fled to her lower extremities. Her entire world narrowed to one point, her gaze shifting out of focus as her brain tried to make sense of Varric's words.

_Isabela's_ _back_.

It had been three years. Isabela had disappeared from Kirkwall soon after the Arishok's death, fleeing on the first ship that left port.

Three years of memories. Of guilt.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_The sound of the crackling logs first woke her. A single eye squeezed open, squinting together sharply at the marked contrast between dark and light, tears rising unbidden until she adapted. Slowly, the other eye joined its partner, the blurry surroundings finally emerging into sharp clarity._

_Aveline and Merrill both stood before her, identical expressions of worry and concern engraved in their features._

_"Thank the Creators you're awake." Merrill's relief was palpable, and Hawke's fingers squeezed hers tightly in reassurance. Aveline looked no less relieved, the faintest hint of a smile becoming readily apparent on her features._

_"Good to see you're up and running," Aveline contralto voice was tightly controlled. "You gave us a bit of a scare."_

_Tieran frowned. Her memories were still fuzzy, and there was an incessant pounding in her head that made her wonder if she'd been run over by a horde of Mabari. The last thing she remembered was sinking her blades into the Arishok's chest, watching at first the disbelief, then grim acceptance of his fate. Everything after that was a blur._

"_Where's the smith?" Hawke grunted in agitation as she tried to prop herself up on elbows that would not fully support her weight. "Better yet, don't tell me. I might have to kill him. Just tell him to quit pounding the anvil."_

"_Is there a smith here? I didn't know there was a smith?" Merrill glanced around the room. Aveline just shook her head._

"_It's…nothing, Merrill. Just a joke." Tieran collapsed back onto the pillow. _

_"Oh." Merrill frowned. "You passed out after the battle." The elf's words ran together. "We thought you might die from the blood loss."_

_Passed out from ..."What?" Her throat felt like it was on fire._

_"Well, you did have some injuries, but most were not severe. We think most of the blood was his, actually. A few cuts and gashes, mostly. A couple of broken bones. We decided to bring you here because Anders could hardly heal you in front of the Knight-Commander and..." Merrill's rambling was causing her headache to intensify, and Tieran weakly raised a hand._

_"I get it," Hawke interrupted. "I think." A pause, before decorum kicked in. "Thank you."_

_On any other day, the smile that lit up Merrill's face would be enough to satisfy any further questions, but in this case... "Isabela?" Hawke's gaze shifted to Aveline, who scowled._

_"Threw her in the jail until we could decide her fate. The Knight-Commander is pressing to transfer custody into Templar hands now that the Viscount is dead, but this is matter for the city guard, not the Templars." Aveline's eyes shifted downward. "I don't know how long I can hold them off, though. There were dozens of deaths, not to mention the death of the Viscount has left a hole in Kirkwall's leadership structure."_

_"Would have happened anyways." Maker, her throat hurt. "Too many Qunari died. Petrice..."_

_"Well, she didn't help matters." Aveline muttered grimly, though by the way her eyes darted around she could tell that the guard captain still remained dubious. "Hawke," Aveline's voice took on uncharacteristic gentleness. "Isabela left you."_

_"She came back." Tieran protested weakly._

_"And she left you again. Alone. To deal with the Arishok." Aveline pressed. "He almost killed us."_

_Tieran closed her eyes, her heart twisting in her chest. Her hand clenched, remembering the feel of crumpled parchment. Isabela's letter._

_Aveline was right. And it hurt._

_"You need to rest." Merrill's voice chimed in. A cool hand pressed against her forehead, the waves of healing energy making her inexplicitly tired._

_"Sleep, Hawke." Eyes drifted closed, surrendering to dreamless sleep._

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

"I see." Tieran forced herself to set aside those memories, instead opening the drawer and pulled out a new quill, dipping it in ink and putting it to parchment.

"Hawke..."

"Thank you, Varric." Her voice brokered no argument. Tieran took a deep breath, consciously softening her tone. "I'm a little busy. If you wouldn't mind..."

The dwarf dipped his head, conceding this argument, backing gracefully out of the study before Hawke's notorious temper flared. People tended to die when that happened.

Tieran listened to the sound of the door closing before she pressed her forehead against her folded hands.

_She's back._

Three years. It had been three years since Isabela had left, slipping away on a freighter bound for Nevarra. Three years.

Tieran could still remember standing dockside, cloak drawn tight to obscure her features, watching as the pirate had sailed off into the sunset. Aveline had been so furious – not just for releasing the pirate (she'd already anticipated that) – but for going to the docks to see her off. Too many guards had died in the revolt, overwhelmed by the Qunari forces that swept through the city, and the guard captain would not soon forgive their companion for the trespass.

For Tieran, it was like it had happened yesterday. Could she really be expected to let go and move on?

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_A dark head lifted, chestnut orbs blinking in recognition as she entered the cell. Relief filled that gaze before it turned away from her, the stubborn denial returning with a vengeance._

_Isabela was alone, of course, isolated from the rest of the community as they were from her. Thick chains bound her arms and legs, though Tieran knew this was mostly for show. Isabela was adept enough at picking locks that she could be free of her restraints in short order._

_And yet still Isabela remained. Why?_

_"Why haven't you left Kirkwall?" Hawke's gravelly voice sounded foreign to her own ears. Her throat was an arid desert, and for a moment she wondered if she'd made a mistake coming to see her alone. Aveline had been dead set against it. Anders and Fenris too, oddly enough. It was perhaps the first time that pair had seen eye-to-eye on anything._

_"Tell me." Her voice was harsh, unyielding. Isabela scowled, pushing to her feet awkwardly, since the chains restricted her movement._

_"I told you before." Isabela's eyes flashed darkly. "I'm here because of your damned influence. I should have been halfway to Ostwick by now. Instead here I am in irons, all because of you."_

_"I had nothing to do with this." Tieran argued. The relief in the pirate's eyes gave way to hurt, which was quickly masked by a casual air of indifference._

_But she hadn't missed the expression in Isabela's eyes, however fleeting. She had been worried – the slight puffiness under her lower eyelids hinted that she might have even done more than that. Tieran wondered what tales the guards had been telling the pirate about her injuries._

_Probably that I was hovering on the brink of death. Tieran reminded herself to have a serious chat with Aveline about her guardsmen when she left here._

_But perhaps she was wrong. But no, she couldn't be. Isabela did feel something. She must have. So then why did she insist in denying it?_

_Damned fool. Hawke managed to prop herself against the wall. "People died, Isabela. Dozens of them. The Viscount, for Andraste's sake, is dead. Why?"_

_Isabela sniffed, eyes not quite masking the sting of Hawke's accusations. "You're reading too much into it, Hawke. I was after the relic, nothing more. There's nothing else keeping me here in Kirkwall."_

_That stung. A surge of anger rushed through her, and in two strides she was across that room, the Rivaini's wrists caught in her hands._

_"That's not true." Tieran refused to believe she had imagined it. Isabela did care for her, even if she was too afraid to admit it. There was something between them. There had to be. She absolutely refused to believe she nearly died for someone who didn't give a damn._

_Brown eyes narrowed to slits. "I told you not to bring feelings into it, Hawke." A warning. "You were a good fuck, nothing more."_

_Liar. Her hand lashed out before she could stop it, impacting the pirate's cheek so hard that the imprint of her hand could be seen against the pirate's face._

_Hawke stared at her hand, horrified at what she had just done. Isabela stared at Tieran in disbelief, though her shock was gradually giving way to anger. The pirate's eyes flashed in fury, and she spit at Hawke's feet._

_"I fucked you, Hawke. But there was nothing else between us. And there never will be."_

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Tieran stared blankly at the parchment, the words and paragraphs running together. She had never forgiven herself for hitting Isabela, for driving the pirate away.

She had not been serious with anyone since Isabela had left. That was not to say she had no suitors. There was no shortage of men (and women, for that matter) lining up to bed the Champion of Kirkwall. Madame Lusine had even given her an unlimited line of credit at the Blooming Rose.

That is not to say she did not try. For a short while, at least, she had tried to drown her sorrows in cheap ale and meaningless sex. But those rare excursions left her feeling even emptier than before, and eventually, she'd decided being celibate was preferable.

Still, self-imposed isolation worried many of her companions. Even Aveline (Aveline, for Maker's sake) was pushing her to start dating again. Hawke had thus far been able to beg off, insisting there were always things to do. Fortunately it was true. There was no shortage of people in Kirkwall seeking her aid, as she had pointed out to Aveline. But more often than not these forays left her feeling empty, and she would retreat into the safety of her mansion for weeks at a time.

She set down her quill. There was no use in trying to continue her current task.

Perhaps she could interest Fenris in a spar. Maybe that would take her mind off things.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

"You're distracted."

Hawke hissed at the sting as the flat of Fenris' blade found her backside. Had he been a true adversary, she would have been dead no less than five times by now.

Chest still heaving, Tieran sheathed her daggers, dipping her head in acknowledgment. The former slave returned her nod as she walked over to a washbasin, splashing a good bit of the tepid water over her face. Fenris waited patiently, seemingly aware that she would share in her own time.

That was one thing Hawke appreciated about the Tevinter elf. He left her alone when she wanted it. Hawke pressed the towel to her face, breathing in the slightly earthy scent.

_Merrill's been in here decorating again._

"Do you ever think about your sister, Fenris?"

A pause while the elf considered the question. It was an undoubtedly complicated topic, given the events of the previous fortnight. The confrontation between Fenris, his sister, and his old master had destroyed half of the furniture in the Hanged Man. Tieran had forked over a significant amount of credits in bribes in replacements, and she had technically been banned from ever stepping foot in that bar again.

Technically. Varric had been contemplating buying the old tavern, and he had already approached her no less than five times about financing. Something about poles and a stage…

"Sometimes," Fenris admitted guardedly. "Why do you ask?"

"She's your sister," Hawke's gaze lingered distantly at an unseen point. "Do you think you'll ever forgive her for betraying you?"

The elf stiffened. "I do not know," he admitted, walking to the basin and dipping his own hands in. "She's the reason Denarius found me. I should be grateful that it's over."

"Do you really believe that?" Hawke's eyes sought his. Fenris, taken aback, shrugged.

"Perhaps he wanted to toy with me." He splashed a bit of the cool water onto his face. "Perhaps he wanted to show me just how far his reach extended."

"Do you think she would do it again?" Tieran pressed the towel into his hands.

"I do not know." The irritation in the elf's voice was evident. Long fingers snatched the towel from her hand, scrubbing angrily at his face. "Perhaps I am not the one to answer your questions."

"What questions?" Hawke tried to keep her tone light, innocent.

"About Isabela." Came the no-nonsense response. "I am not exactly an expert in relationships."

Tieran didn't respond, staring at the elf for a long minute. Finally, she dipped her head, spinning in her heel and heading towards the exit.

"Hawke."

She stopped just shy of the exit, though she did not turn to face him.

"I... wish things had gone differently." It was a surprising admission. Tieran nodded briefly before leaving.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_She studied the pirate's features, noting the dark circles underneath the other woman's eyes. Even in the dim light afforded by the candles, she could see that her eyes were bloodshot._

_Had she really been crying?_

_Hawke leaned into her cane – she hadn't quite regained her full strength yet. "Meredith wants you publicly flogged, then executed in the town square. Aveline has refused to give into her demands, even though the Seneschal has said to do whatever the Templars ask."_

_No response from the pirate._

_Tieran sighed. She would never forgive herself for hitting Isabela. It had been a stupid move – letting her anger take hold. But what's done was done. There would never be any going back, and she would have to learn to live with the consequences of her mistakes._

_"Aveline wants to wait until a new Viscount can decide what to do. Meredith has been delaying the vote, however. I think she means to take command of Kirkwall herself."_

_If she was expecting a response, she would be sorely disappointed. Tieran sighed softly. She hobbled towards where the pirate was chained, wincing as the movement pulled at some of her stitches._

_She knelt in front of her former lover, ignoring the stabbing pain in her side. Isabela looked away, refusing to raise her eyes to Hawke's own. _

_"I shouldn't have done that." The Champion lifted a fingertip to the bruise on Isabela's cheekbone, her heart dropping when the other woman jerked away._

_"I've made too many mistakes in my life," Tieran said sadly, reaching to a concealed pocket in her inner tunic and pulling out a small key. Isabela's head snapped up, instantly focusing on Hawke's hands._

_"I lost Carver to the Darkspawn, Bethany to the Circle, and my mother to a blood mage. And now you... you say what we shared was meaningless. Maybe you're right..."_

_She slipped the key into the restraints._

_"But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you." Isabela's eyes lifted, focusing on Hawke's sharp features. Tieran turned the key, the click of the restraints unusually loud to her ears. "But I can't ... I won't let them execute you. There's a ship bound for Nevarra in a few candlemarks. If you leave now you should have plenty of time to make it."_

_Isabela stared at Hawke for a long time, rubbing her wrists where the bindings had chafed. She pushed unsteadily to shaky feet, the expression in her eyes unreadable. Tieran felt moisture beginning to pool in her eyes, and she averted her gaze, blinking rapidly. How could she have messed this up so badly?_

_After a moment of indecision, Isabela reached out to Hawke._

_Tieran took the proffered hand, allowing Isabela to pull her up. She nearly fell as she stood, narrowly averting a bad spill. The pirate's arms wrapped around her until she could regain her balance._

_"I didn't do it for them," Isabela's eyes held true regret, a hand reaching up to brush her cheek. "I did it for you. It was always about you." Her lips captured Tieran's in a bittersweet kiss. The champion felt herself melt into the other woman, moaning softly as Isabela's lips and tongue plundered her mouth with ruthless determination._

_An ulterior motive she could not, would not expect. Not until a fist buried itself in her gut, causing Tieran to bend over, gasping for air. Another blow to the back of her head sent her reeling. _

_The sound of rapidly fading footsteps was the last thing she'd heard._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Wow. Thank you all for your read/responds, your reviews, those who faved this story, and otherwise. I had no idea it would take off like it did, but I am very happy you all enjoyed it. I love Hawke and Isabela. I think the dynamic between the pair is just electrifying, and I love being able to try to capture that in my own tales.

Thanks again to leogrl19 for her beta work, and for her insights into the story.

For those of you who have been asking, yes, I will try my hands at something from Isabela's point of view. Hopefully soon - I have a few ideas in mind, but really what I'm interested in is seeing if I can truly pull off something chapter length from her perspective. That'll let me know if I will be able to tackle a longer story.

Anyways, here is part 2. Read and enjoy.

* * *

><p>Meredith had been furious with the city guard when she learned of Isabela's escape, until Hawke had stepped in and confessed her intent to release the pirate. The Knight-Commander could hardly countermand a decision made by the champion who slew the Arishok. Though not exonerated, Isabela had at least gained a reprieve.<p>

That didn't stop Aveline from ripping into her the second that they'd been behind closed doors. The ensuing fight had been legendary, and it had taken over a month before the friends were on speaking terms again.

Tieran paused outside Aveline's door now, wondering if this was the best time to be bringing Isabela's sudden appearance to the guard captain. Aveline had her hands full trying to keep the Templars from taking over Kirkwall as well as dealing with generalized unrest of the populace. As a result, she had been putting in increasingly longer hours at the Keep. Tieran braced herself and knocked.

"Come in." Hawke stepped into the room, eyes immediately finding the tall redhead who was seated behind a sturdy oak desk. The captain looked vaguely irritated at the intrusion, though her eyes lit up with curiosity when she saw the identity of her guest.

"Expecting someone else?" Tieran ventured, resisting the urge to smile at the scowl that caused Aveline's lower lip to jut out like a petulant child's.

"Nary a day goes by that I don't have to entertain a Templar 'envoy' from the Keep, so to answer your question, yes." Aveline rose to her feet, crossing around to the front of her desk and leaning casually against it. "What brings you here, Hawke?"

"Oh, just checking on my favorite guard captain," Tieran's voice rose cheerfully. "Staring at one's toes gets so dreadfully boring this time of year."

A slender eyebrow slid upwards, and Tieran sighed. Maker, Aveline never let her get away with anything. "Maybe I just swung by to see how you were doing? Maybe I want to join the guard."

"And maybe the Seneschal will sprout wings and decide to spend his life as a cloistered sister," came the dry response. "Out with it."

Tieran sighed again. Apparently there was going to be no way to ease into the conversation, but with Aveline, what else did she expect? "It's Isabela. She's back."

A second eyebrow rose to join the first. "And when did you find this out?"

"This morning," Hawke admitted. "Varric's been keeping an eye out for her."

"Both of them, apparently," Aveline made her way back to her chair, sitting down slowly. "And you bring this to my attention ... why?" She frowned. "You can't possibly be asking my advice on her."

"Maker no!" Hawke shuddered as images from Aveline's near disastrous courtship with Donnic came to mind. She still had nightmares about that. "Does she need to be worried about being arrested?"

Aveline waved a hand in the air dismissively. "My guardsmen have their hands full trying to keep the peace in this city. I don't have the resources to bring her in, and she'd just disappear again, anyways." A pause. "I still owe her a piece of my mind for that incident with the Qunari."

"Should I tell her to swing by?" Tieran quipped. Aveline rolled her eyes, shaking her head. The Champion stood there, shifting from side to side before she resigned herself to the idea that no more answers would be forthcoming. She turned to leave.

"Hawke." Aveline's voice halted her right inside the door. "You should speak with her."

Tieran inhaled sharply as the pain filled her. She nodded to no one in particular before slipping out the door.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

There was comfort in knowing some things just never changed.

Take the Hanged man for instance. It smelled of sour ale and sweat. Drunk patrons crowded around the dilapidated tables, drinking the familiar swill until their stomachs rebelled and they made haste to a corner to vomit. Corff filled dingy mugs full of ale, and the serving wenches scuttled from table to table, slipping past a sea of groping hands and wandering fingers.

The very familiarity of it all should have been a comfort. Instead, Hawke felt like she was going to pass out.

Isabela was there, leaning against the bar, staring quietly at a half-finished mug of whatever ale was on special. Three years without a breathe as to her whereabouts.

And here she was – still as gorgeous as the first day Hawke laid eyes on her.

Tieran swallowed past the lump in her throat, her feet moving of their own volition to the pirate's position. She froze a foot away, taking in the deeply tanned skin, the smell of salt and the sea. Ebony tresses pulled close to her head by a colorful scarf. Maker, to run her hands through that hair...

"I was wondering when you would come see me." The pirate's low, seductive tones still sent Hawke's heart racing, even after all this time.

"I haven't seen you in almost three years," Tieran replied coolly. "You could have written."

Isabela's shoulders tensed, and Hawke instantly regretted her words. "I'm sorry," Hawke added quickly, before the pirate could speak. "That was unfair of me. It is ... good to see you. You look like you haven't aged a day."

The Rivaini slowly turned around, resting her elbows on the corner of the counter. "And you look like you haven't had a good romp in three years. Don't you ever take a day off?"

"Not really," Hawke's lips quirked. "I've been quite popular you know, being the Champion of Kirkwall and all."

A pair of lazy brown eyes skimmed up and down Tieran's body, causing goose bumps to quickly spring up on her flesh. "I bet..." Came the low, sultry drawl. Isabela pushed away from the countertop, approaching the Ferelden with that sultry swagger that caused Hawke's mouth to water. "I bet all the ladies love you."

A flash of pain. Hawke shook her head deliberately at the insinuation. "Not that popular, I'm afraid." The pirate stopped in her tracks, her lips pursing together in a thoughtful frown. "My rough and tumble days are quite over, I'm afraid."

Isabela scowled. "So I suppose that means sex is out? Pity."

Hawke shrugged unapologetically. But she had given her heart before, and it had nearly killed her. Just seeing her former lover was enough to reopen those old wounds. Tieran closed her eyes and swallowed. Strong. She must remain strong.

"Why did you come back to Kirkwall, Isabela?" It took all of her self-control to speak those words without a waver in her voice. "The last time I saw you, you nearly left me unconscious."

The Rivaini scowled, turning abruptly to face the bar. She grasped her mug, gulping several mouthfuls down.

"I had to do that," her tone grew more serious. "Look, people were going to be out for blood. You were the hero of that whole mess. But if they knew you released me …" A pause. "It needed to be believable."

Tieran sighed. Isabela brought up a good point, to be fair, but it still didn't explain her sudden reappearance. Hawke made her way to the counter, resting her weight on her forearm, waiting for the Rivaini to speak. Isabela stared at her ale for a long time, seemingly lost in a tumult of thoughts, before she finally broke the silence.

"I need your help," the pirate said measuredly, as if the very admission was painful. "Castillon is back, and he won't leave me alone until I am lying dead in an alley somewhere."

_Unbelievable. Nearly three years without a peep and now she needs a favor._ Hawke crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing as she stared coolly at the pirate.

"Seems like you've been avoiding him fine after all these years. Sounds like you hardly need my help in the matter." A hurt expression flickered over the Rivaini's face, though it was gone as quickly as it came. "Why now?"

"This is all your fault, Hawke." Isabela's eyes narrowed, her internal barriers springing up. "If it wasn't for you, I'd have had the relic to Castillon already and I wouldn't have spent the past three years looking over my shoulder waiting for the knife coming to slit my throat."

"You stole the tome from the Arishok."

"Because Castillon was going to do it."

"Sounds like you brought this all upon yourself."

Isabela's expression hardened. "I can see I made a mistake coming back here." She quickly polished off the remainder of her mug, slamming the wooden vessel on the countertop. When she made to leave, Hawke's arm closed around her bicep.

"Please," Tieran pleaded softly. "Not like this."

Eyes the color of a storm lifted, focusing on Hawke with an intensity that nearly undid her. "You already made it clear you won't help me."

"I'll help you." Tieran said, seeing the tiniest flicker behind that cold gaze. That expression was nearly unreadable – but she had seen it before, once. Once – when the pirate thought she was not looking.

"I won't change." Isabela's low voice cautioned.

"I don't want you to." _Maker, what am I doing?_

The pirate frowned. "I'm not... we're not good for each other, Hawke. I shouldn't have come back. It was a mistake to return the relic. I should have gone to Ostwick."

Tieran squeezed the well-toned bicep gently. "Then why did you return?"

Isabela scowled. "I told you that already."

"Tell me again."

Troubled brown eyes darted to the corner. For a moment, Tieran thought Isabela would ignore the question. But after a long moment, she finally spoke.

"I … you make me feel … unsettled." She admitted softly. "Like this … isn't enough anymore. I don't like feeling that way, Hawke, so out of control. It's not me."

Slender fingers reached out, the backs gently brushing across the Rivaini's cheek. "Remember what I told you when we first…" Tieran's voice trailed off. Not _make love_. That term was far too intimate to be applied to their situation. Or rather it had been. Now … "It may not be up to you. Or to me. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be."

"I'm not good for you, Hawke." Isabela warned. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come back."

"I will not let Castillon hurt you," Tieran repeated, loosening her hold on the Rivaini's arm. "I will protect you."

"Hawke, this is not a good..."

The press of Tieran's lips against the pirate's cut off further conversation. Isabela remained motionless for a moment, finally melting into the kiss, old passions burning brighter than any flame.

She would have taken her there. But the pub floor of the Hanged Man was covered in a layer of grime that even Hawke wasn't sure she could stomach. And she was getting too old to tumble on the hard floor.

"Room. Now." Hawke's voice rose insistently when Isabela's lips found that spot on her neck that made...

_Maker._

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

"I don't like this." Tieran tugged at the rope that bound the pirate's wrists, making sure they were tight enough to make their show convincing without cutting off circulation.

"This will work, Hawke." Isabela rolled her eyes in exasperation, pulling lightly on the bindings that circled her wrists. Satisfied that they were tight enough, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder. "Besides, this was your idea."

"I wasn't being serious." Tieran muttered, uncorking the vial of pig's blood and applying to the pirate's clothes in strategic locations, thinking back to the moment this insane plan had been hatched.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_"Castillon's in town."_

_"Oh?" Hawke leaned against her doorframe, watching the play of light from the fireplace dance across the pirate's derrière. "Should we invite him to tea?"_

_"This is serious," Isabela's eyes reflected genuine worry. "And no, he hates tea. He's more of a rum drinker." The Rivaini shook her head. "But that's beside the point. This is our chance."_

_"I suppose you have a plan then?" Hawke willed the playfulness out of her voice._

_"Get him before he gets me?" Isabela murmured, turning to face the fire, arms crossed in front of her body, fingertips idly rubbing her elbows. "Unfortunately, he's holed up somewhere. I do know where his right hand is."_

_"Attached to his body?" Hawke quipped, ignoring the pirate's dirty look._

_"Velasco has been seen frequenting the Blooming Rose. We just need to get him to tell us where Castillon is," Isabela rubbed her chin thoughtfully._

_"Twenty questions?"_

_"I thought we could challenge him to a riddle game and make 'Where's your boss' one of the riddles." Isabela countered. "But it won't work."_

_"Why don't we just beat him up then? That usually works for me," Hawke crossed the room to Isabela's side._

_"He would enjoy it. Besides, Castillon isn't stupid. Velasco's his right hand for a reason. He's loyal." Isabela frowned, eyes troubled. "We've only got one shot at this, Hawke."_

_"Then we use you as bait," Tieran rested a hand on Isabela's shoulder, relieved when the other woman didn't pull away. "I deliver you to Velasco, all trussed up, and I'll follow you to Castillon. Spring the trap, and ambush him."_

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

She had meant it as a joke. But as soon as the words slipped her mouth, Isabela's eyes lit up.

"What if he kills you outright?" Hawke grabbed her lover's shoulders, eyeing her with a serious expression.

"Castillon wants me alive." Isabela's eyes were filled with more a hint of amusement. "We just need to get me inside."

"And if you're wrong?" An uneasy feeling had settled into the pit of her stomach. "Isabela, I can't lose you again."

The pirate stepped forward. "You won't lose me." Her features softened, regarding Tieran with a remarkably tender look. "We're going to be fine. I promise."

It was as close as declaration of love as she'd ever gotten, and if she peered close enough, she could see the truth swirling behind those murky growth depths.

"Okay, but when this is over, we need to talk." _Maker, I can't believe I'm doing this. _Blue eyes met brown, and after a long moment, Isabela dipped her head in acknowledgement.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_The trip to the Blooming Rose passed uneventfully. Aveline kept her guards out of sight, so as not to arouse suspicion. Isabela was barely recognizable – Merrill had done such a good job with her spells that the pirate looked like she had endured a good beating. Varric kept Bianca trained on the Rivaini's back the entire time they were walking to the brothel, while Hawke's white knuckled grip held the rope that bound her hands and neck._

_Velasco was in the middle of propositioning a whore when Hawke kicked the door down. He spun around instantly, dagger in hand, eyes flashing dangerously as he regarded his intruders._

_"You better have a good reason for coming in here." He looked so agitated that Tieran could barely contain her smirk. Shame we didn't catch him a little later. It would have been so much more amusing. Instead, she turned and regarded the hooker, a pretty elf who looked like far too young to be wearing that much makeup, and jerked her head to the door._

_"Out," she ordered, her lip twitching as the young woman fled past her:_

_"Hey... hey!"' Velasco looked positively livid. "I am going to make you regret the day you were born, whore." He took a single step towards Tieran, whose expression instantly hardened._

_"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, because I'm about to make you a very wealthy man." She gave a good tug on the leash, bringing Isabela into the room with a jerk. A well-placed kick to the backside sent the pirate sprawling onto the ground in front of her. Velasco's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets._

_"A present for Castillon." Tieran sneered, lifting the leash in her hand. "Sorry I didn't wrap it."_

_"But that's...? How did you...? Where...?" Velasco's hand fell, slack-jawed as his eyes darted between the two women._

_"The Hanged Man, of course. Caught her with her pants down." A pause. "Literally."_

_"I'm going to kill you," Isabela hissed, spitting on Hawke's boots. Tieran backhanded the kneeling woman, forcing herself not to wince as the force of the blow drove the pirate onto her belly. The sound of the slap echoing across the room was a little too close to home. Tieran forced those memories away, praying silently that Isabela would forgive her (though it had been the pirate's idea in the first place, and glared angrily at Varric. "If she moves again, dwarf, shoot her – in her knee, mind you. There was no reward for bringing in a corpse."_

_Velasco's eye arched impressively. "Well done. I must admit – I am surprised to see you captured this woman so easily. Isabela is not known for her ability to be tamed."_

_Careful, Tieran. "Perhaps not by any man," Hawke began to cross the room. "But this one is not known for her discriminating taste." Timing was everything here. "And I am very, very good at what I do." Her voice took on a sultry tone, though she made no move to touch Velasco, the way his breathing hitched in his throat let her know he'd received her message quite clearly._

_Men are such pigs._

_Velasco held out his hand for the leash, and Hawke wagged a finger at him. "Ah ah! Payment first." Isabela had said this part was extremely important. If she just handed the rope over, Velasco for sure would know it was a trap._

_"Come, my dear." Now came the charm. "We will pay you. You have my word." The slaver began to reach for the leash._

_Hawke's hold on the rope tightened, and she took a step outside of the taller man's range. "Payment first, or I take my prize and leave." A pause, and then her voice lowered dangerously. "Grab for me again, and you'll part ways with a hand."_

_Renewed respect filled Velasco's eyes, his expression hardening. "Very well, my dear." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small sack of jangling coins, tossing it to Tieran. "It's more than she's worth."_

_Tieran opened the bag, mentally counting the coins, making a show of pulling out one of the sovereigns and biting it to check for authenticity. She nodded as if satisfied, her eyes meeting Isabela's grimly, before flitting to Velasco's._

_"Enjoy." She dipped her head, feigning gratitude, and left the room without a backward glance._

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

The lone figure sat slumped in her chair, fingers drumming idly against the well- appointed leather armrest as she stared pensively into the fire.

The teal eyes blinked slowly, shifting into focus after a seeming eternity of staring into dancing flames. In her left hand, she held a crumpled piece of parchment, which had been wrinkled, then smoothed, again and again, until it nearly obscured the original message.

_Come see me - Isabela_

Three little words, and yet they set her entire body on edge.

It had been like this before. From the moment Velasco left the Blooming Rose with the pirate in tow, Tieran had felt like she was teetering on the edge of sanity. She was getting too old to be sneaking through the streets of Kirkwall at night, throwing herself recklessly into the unknown.

_Don't kid yourself, Hawke. You loved every bit of it._

And she had. Throwing herself headlong into an ambush for love's sake – fighting Castillon's men, back-to-back with Isabela. It had been glorious. She had never been so exhilarated, consumed by the rush of battle, the deadly dance of twin daggers flying in the air, the smell of sweat and blood flying through the air. Isabela's sultry laugh as she sent another soul to the Maker.

And when it was all over and Isabela had her ship, when Castillon had been sent scurrying to Antiva with tail tucked between legs, she had seen the first signs of genuine gratitude in the pirate's eyes.

Isabela had her ship. Now, there was nothing tying her to Kirkwall.

_Or to you._ Hawke's fingers traced over the fine parchment again, memorizing its texture.

Isabela wanted to meet with Tieran in her room at the Hanged Man. She was half surprised that the pirate had not already sailed out, but perhaps raising a crew took a bit longer than anticipated.

Or perhaps this time she intended to say goodbye.

Ignoring the pang in her chest those thoughts brought, Tieran finally rose to her feet. It was a chilly night, so she'd need her cloak, but perhaps she could skip the armor.

Just this once.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

She paused outside the door, frowning, her head tilting to the side, listening for any signs of movement in the room.

There was a fire going... she could hear that much. And the steady staccato rhythm of booted feet pacing along the wooden floorboards. She'd recognize that rhythm anywhere.

Tieran knocked, holding her breath until the familiar voice bade her entrance.

Isabela was standing by the fireplace, the flames reflecting off her magnificent hair like streaks of copper. Her eyes softened perceptibly when she saw the identity of her visitor, though trouble swirled behind their murky depths.

"You ... you're here. Good." Isabela stammered, glancing away briefly into the fire. "I ... wanted to talk to you about something."

"You're still here? I thought for sure you'd be halfway across the Amaranthine by now." Tieran teased, crossing the room to where the pirate was standing. "Besides, you know I can never resist the smell of stale beer and vomit."

The sounds of Isabela's laughter drew a smile to Tieran's heart. "That's what I lo... like about you, Hawke. You're always able to make me laugh." The pirate turned towards her, lifting her gaze to meet the other woman's. "I ... wanted to talk to you about something." she gestured to a small round table in the corner of the room. "Shall we?"

Curiosity piqued, Tieran followed Isabela to the corner, sitting in one of the chairs that had probably not seen use in a long while. She cocked her head, studying the pirate. The Rivaini kept shifting nervously, alternately clasping her hands in front of her body or resting them flat on her legs. Finally, she settled for leaving them on the table, clasped lightly together, resting her weight on her forearms. Hawke took a moment to appreciate the view of cleavage afforded her (she was such a dog) before settling back in her chair.

"I wanted to thank you ... for everything." Isabela's eyes never left her hands.

"You already did. Several times, in fact." Tieran kept her tone light, trying to dispel some of the tension. She shifted, leaning forward in her chair, resting a hand atop the Rivaini's own. She half expected Isabela to pull away, and was shocked when she did not. "Seriously, I am glad I could help you get your boat."

"Ship," Isabela corrected gently, a small smile quirking the corners of her lips. "She's a beauty, for sure. I can't wait to explore every inch of her wonderful body. But that's why I'm here."

"You need help with her mast? I would have thought you'd had that one down by now."

Isabela smiled. "I ... It's funny. For the longest time getting a ship was all that mattered." She glanced away for a minute, before lifting her eyes to meet Tieran's. "But now ... I find that I don't want to leave."

Tieran's throat went dry. "Oh?" She managed, giving herself a mental kick. _Oh? That's the best you can come up with?_

"Look." A hand slipped across the table, slowly coming to rest on Tieran's own. "Everything I care about is here." She hesitated, then, "You're here."

Tieran's breathe halted in her chest. _She couldn't possibly be saying what I think she's saying._ Isabela's thumb traced idly over her skin, sending jolts of electricity racing up her arm.

The pirate's cheeks darkened. "Look, I don't know what's coming over me. I think I'm ... I'm falling for you." She paused. "I was just wondering if maybe there's still a chance ... for us."

For a long moment there was only silence. So many emotions flickered through her mind. Anger, fear, and hope all mixed up inside her head. They'd known each other for years now, spent more nights together than she could count. But why now? Why after all this time?

"Isabela," Tieran saw the pirate's shoulders fall. "I..." She paused, frowning. Isabela's eyes were closed, her shoulders tensed, as if waiting for a blow.

_The past is the past Hawke. Let it go._

"I've waited for you for years." Tieran rested her hands atop the pirates, squeezing gently. "Promise me one thing though. Let me go with you. When you leave Kirkwall. Don't leave me behind again."

The relief in the pirate's eyes was palpable. As was the blush that darkened Isabela's cheeks. Her eyes softened, the uncertainty fading away, the truth of her revelation giving rise to another emotion.

Joy.

Isabela's head dipped a little, her cheeks coloring. "You know... it just so happens I'm in need of a first mate to help me run my ship."

"I see," Tieran's tone grew playful. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

Isabela drew back, pushing to her feet, pacing a few strides towards the fire. "I might." She called over her shoulder, a wry smile on her face. "Are you interested? The position requires a woman's touch."

"Hmm." Tieran slid out of her seat, sidling up behind the pirate, her arms slipping around her waist. "I might." Isabela shuddered as Hawke's lips brushed her ear. "Tell me, what kind of touch might be needed?" Long fingertips brushed against the pirate's stomach, the muscles underneath rippling in response.

"Ah..." The Rivaini gasped as those same fingertips began to unlace her corset. "I might have to show you..." A sharp hiss of breath as fingers darted across bare skin.

"Maybe later." Tieran nibbled on a delicate earlobe. "First... I intend to make love to you."

"I …" Isabela's protests were silenced as Tieran cupped her cheek, drawing her back into a gentle, yet insistent kiss. The Rivaini's demeanor immediately changed, her entire body relaxing into Hawke's embrace, allowing herself to melt into the folded arms, feeling the length of the Ferelden's strong body against her own.

Tieran finished unlacing the corset, hands slipping sensuously up the pirate's body, pulling the linen away from the tanned skin. Isabela groaned as Tieran's fingertips found familiar points, knowing exactly how and where to touch her to send her pulse racing.

"Maybe..." Isabela arched her back as Tieran's fingertips circled rapidly hardening nipples. "Just this once." Her neck fell against Hawke's shoulder when the lips traced a path down her jaw towards the hollow of her throat.

Tieran smiled, grabbing her lover by the hands and guiding her towards the bed.

Isabela backed up until her the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, allowing herself to be led in this dance. Her breath hitched as Hawke slowly crawled on top of her. It was quite the shift from their normal roles, and for a brief moment Tieran wondered if Isabela would try to wrest control of the situation. Her lover rarely allowed Hawke to take the lead in these matters, and most of the time Tieran was perfectly happy to oblige.

Not tonight though. Tonight, she wanted to feel Isabela writhe under her touch. She wanted to hear the pirate call her name out in the throes of passion.

To surrender to her willingly.

Shifting her focus to those long, luxurious legs, Tieran unlaced one boot, then the other, her lips following the trail of leather as she slipped them from her body. Isabela had the most glorious skin, the most delectable combination of muscles and softness, and Tieran nibbled on them, tracing the path of soft skin along an inner thigh.

"You have..." Isabela gasped as Hawke's fingertips slipped inside the waistband of her smallclothes (Yes, she did wear them, despite rumors to the contrary), drawing the silken garments over heated flesh. "Too many clothes," the pirate ground out, her belly fluttering as Hawke's lips nibbled at her navel piercing.

Tieran smirked, her lips tracing across a well-toned stomach and down the inside of one her right thigh. "Let me make love to you, Isabela." She whispered softly against heated skin, drawing a low moan from the pirate, who arched into her touch. She wasn't quite playing fair, but damnit, she had waited forever for this.

"I ... oh shit!" Isabela cried out as Hawke's lips brushed her most intimate regions. "Yes... Just don't stop. Please."

Tieran's grin broadened, quickly divesting herself of all her clothes before settling back between the pirate's legs. She hooked an arm around one thigh to keep her lover in place before she dipped her head, focusing her attentions on where Isabela needed her the most.

Isabela's moans grew louder and louder as Hawke continued her ministrations, quickly riding the waves of pleasure before reaching her peak. She hovered there, caught in the delicious throes of agony and ecstasy for a seeming eternity before falling, screaming Hawke's name into the night.

Tieran slipped up her lover's body, moaning at the delicious feel of sweat-soaked skin gliding across each other. Her hand dipped into wet curls, fingers thrusting upwards, and Isabela found herself propelled upwards once more, her hips rocking wildly against Hawke's fingers. Tieran lost herself in the touch, her lips capturing the pirate's hungrily, moaning as the familiar tongue plundered her mouth and a strong thigh pressed upwards, grinding against her own body in a familiar rhythm.

Maker. It was all Tieran could do to keep from losing it all right there. She reluctantly broke the kiss, eyes searching the pirate's as her fingertips curled upwards to find that one spot that would drive her wild.

Isabela's head flung backwards with abandon, her second orgasm even more powerful than the first, but still Tieran did not stop. She continued her motions, her thumb slipping up to circle the small bundle of nerves at the juncture of Isabela's folds. A choked sob tore from the pirate's throat, her hips thrusting wildly against Hawke's hand.

Tieran dropped her lips to the pirate's ears, tracing a tongue along the sensitive skin.

"I love you, Isabela." The pirate's blunted fingernails dug small half-moons into her back as she again succumbed to the pleasure, screaming Tieran's name into the night.

Tieran was dimly aware of the trembling of the woman beneath her, but it wasn't until she felt moisture against her chest that she realized Isabela was actually crying. Worried, she wrapped an arm tenderly around her lover's body, halting her ministrations, cradling the Rivaini as she whispered promises of love into her ears.

In all their previous encounters, Isabela had never remained long, and certainly she had never stayed the night. So Tieran half-expected to be pushed away by the pirate or asked to leave, once the Rivaini regained full control of her senses.

Instead, a hesitant arm slipped around her middle, and as blue eyes glanced down she was shocked to see Isabela looking back at her with a remarkably vulnerable expression.

Hawke pressed her lips against the pirate's forehead, nudging away a sweaty tendril of ebony hair. They remained like that for a long time, Isabela cradled against her side with her head nestled against Tieran's shoulder.

"I …" The pirate's voice wavered slightly, as if by the very admission she was sacrificing something precious. "I love you, too."

Tieran swallowed, brushing her lips against the pirate's forehead, aware of just how precious a gift she'd been granted. She hugged Isabela tightly to her side, feeling the pirate gradually relax into the embrace, allowing her eyes to drift closed.

There would be no more nightmares tonight.


End file.
